Oh dear. I fear that this chapter is both hugesome and long and starting to develop... gasp... a plot! Oh dear god, I hope it doesn't drag out too terribly long. That would be just TERRIBLE... yeah. Thanks to Blissey for acknowledging that this fic exists and to Black Draco for offering to beta-read. Hope this tickles someone's fancy...

---

No mysterious villain hideout is truly complete without a pipe organ. It's just required. Sadly, most villains overlook this rule. Like Darth Vader. Vader never had a pipe organ. That would have been so cool, you know? He would have like, played it with his mind while he kicked Luke's ass. That would have been so awesome.

Wait, where was I? Oh yeah, pipe organs.

This particular villain has one.

The music was like a hammer covered in velvet. It pounded, it rose, it fell, and pounded again. Like waves striking your ears. It was beautiful.

The chamber the organ was held in was long and dark, like a cathedral with no pews, just a long, red-carpeted hall, and the dais at the end of it. A dark figure sat at the keyboard, completely obscured by a hooded inky black robe. Its hands, huge and skeletal, passed over the keys like dancing spiders.

There was a gust of cold wind, brushing delicately over the figure's cloak like the fingers of a lover. Slowly, the song came to a halt. The figure turned and cast pale green eyes over the hall behind him.

A second figure stood there, light blue armor wrapped with lengths of metallic chain, a dull black trench coat hanging limply on boney shoulders, hollow eyes as dark as bottomless wells.

"The second is awake," said the newcomer.

"Damn skippy," replied the musician.

-

The lab was pitch black. Except for the spot welder. Vile was inclined to be nervous about this- these were his innards that were being welded, after all, and he preferred the welder to have sufficient light. The doc said it had to be dark, though, so dark it was. Never argue with a guy who's holding a spot welder against your wrist.

"So word on the street is you've got yourself a girlfriend," said the doc. "How's that going for you?"

"She's remarkably frisky for a battered woman."

"You're a sick son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Hey, I'm not the one that beat her. Her ex was a Maverick Hunter, if you can believe that. So I killed him and she practically crawls into my pants. She's very good at it, I might add. I'm sort of liking this healthy relationship thing."

"Healthy?"

"Compared to my last few? Hell yes. Last chick I dated bit me half the time. So I broke her jaw."

"You're an inspiration to us all."

"I do try."

There was a long moment of silence. Then the doc finished welding and starting closing things up.

"Alright, I fitted you with new weapons and reloaded your rocket launchers. Your shields are fine, just the conductors got overloaded. Don't try to block something like that next time, just deflect it right away. Honestly, I'm surprised anything managed to short those things out, they should have stopped a hell of a lot more than most hunters are capable of dishing out."

Vile sat up and flexed his hands, making sure everything was in working order. "It wasn't just any hunter. The chick's husband went down pretty easily, X was the problem."

"Ah X. Always comes back to him, doesn't it? Amazing that such a little shrimp would cause anyone so much trouble."

"That's the point."

The doc blinked slowly. "Pardon?"

"It's one of the reasons X kicks everybody's ass, because everybody underestimates him, at least the first time. You look at him and sure, he's sort of mildly threatening, like a mean little dog, but he's still so cute and little and helpless. How could he possibly be so dangerous? Everyone else just had a string of bad luck, I can take him. And then Bam! He assrapes you with his plasma cannon. Little bitch."

"And that's your theory on what makes him so dangerous?"

"Fuck no. I said the first time. The second time I hit the little bastard with every piece of ordinance I had and he still whooped my ass. You gave me these upgrades, and I feel like god. That hunter was like, A ranked, and he was nothing to me. I could have killed him with one hand. And X still kicks my ass. There's something about him. When I figure out what that is... that's when he's fucked."

The doc chuckled. "And just how do you intend to find out?"

Vile snorted as he hopped off the examination table. "The same way I always do. I'll burn him. So far all it does is melt off the dross, but some day it'll be more than he can handle... it doesn't matter how I do it, I'll break him. Your idea doesn't even make sense. Being able to analyze his data or whatever doesn't make a bit of difference."

The doc shook his head as they began walking. "Don't be so quick to judge my theories. The only reason I resurrected you was to test him, to discover how he would react. The more data I have, the more I can learn. My experiments have already yielded results, as you know..."

"Yeah yeah, your little menagerie. Keep dreaming. Just because their data can't be analyzed like X and Zero doesn't mean they can't be beaten by them. Frankly, I find this a lot more interesting..."

Vile paused before a huge plastic tube, glowing faintly green. Inside, floating in some kind of bubbling solution were two reploids, obviously casualties of some great battle. The female was in better condition, still mostly intact, though her left hand was missing, and the skin had been torn from the right side of her face, the same side of her chest, and her left leg. The male was worse off, missing his entire left leg and both arms, the right at the shoulder and the left at the elbow. The only skin remaining on him was on the surviving right half of his face. Judging by the stature, the male reploid had been a tall, sturdy fellow, while the woman somewhat less so, but something about their faces and the color of their remaining hair made Vile think they might have been created to seem alike.

"Who are they, anyway?"

"Nobody you need to worry about. Remember our deal. I keep you alive, you keep X and Zero on their toes. I want to know what makes them tick."

"Alright, alright, don't get your little purple undershorts in a twist. I'll go bother 'em sometime tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tonight I have to see a woman about dinner and a movie."

"God, you've turned into a total pussy."

"At least I'm getting some."

-

"Our father, who art in heaven, whatever the heck your name is supposed to be, I come to you today praying about the food, God, because frankly its impossible to get any good grub around here anymore. I mean, used to be the chefs outdid themselves, and a Maverick Hunter could count on a quality meal every day of the week. And now we come to this, thin gnarly hamburgers with cold buns and tasteless fries. And the soda is like carbonated water. God, you've got to do something about this. I've saved the world for you like, four or five times now, I'm sure you can handle this little thing for me, just this once. I'm not asking for much God, work with me here! And lead us not into temptation, and help us to forgive Mavericks before we blow their heads in, and deliver me from Vile, because frankly he scares me. Amen."

X sighed and stared at the meager meal congealing on his tray. It didn't transform itself into a triple quarter pounder with cheese. Damn. He'd honestly thought that would work. It wasn't like he needed to eat anyway, but he'd gotten into the habit and now he couldn't get through his day without at least one meal. Of course, one meal a day like this could break him of the habit real quick, he was sure.

There was a clatter of metal and plastic and Zero sat down beside him, laying a similar trayful of food before him. "Wassup X?"

"God hates me, Zero."

"Bah. If God hated you why would he saddle you with that blonde bombshell who's been leading you around by your dick lately?"

X rolled his eyes. "Zero, you may find this hard to believe, but you get more than I do. Between our schedules Alia and I only rarely have time to enjoy a few uninterrupted hours alone."

Zero frowned. "But an established and reasonably sure source of poon, X. That is a rare commodity."

"Zero, every single female hunter on base, and some of those who aren't single, would give their left arm to spend a night with you."

The crimson one sighed and nodded. "Yes, this is true. I have ludicrous amounts of sex."

There was a moment of silence. This was actually the first time they'd talked about this, now that X thought about it. It seemed like an obvious thing to discuss, but Zero's sex life had never weighed particularly heavily on his mind. Now, though...

"How ludicrous are we talking?"

Zero sighed again, heavily. "You know those three girls from Unit 7? Spark, Cera, and Dalia?"

"Weren't they originally designed to be models?"

"They were, and they are spectacular pieces of engineering. They've also been waiting for me in my room every night this week."

X just didn't know how to respond to that. He sometimes had trouble keeping Alia satisfied, so he didn't see how it could be possible to deal with three women at once. Unless they took care of that themselves, in which case... my god, the implications. Then he noticed Zero staring morosely at his hamburger. Something about this didn't seem right.

"You seem remarkably depressed for having had a weeklong foursome. Don't tell me the food's that bad..."

"The food's terrible. The food's always terrible, but if it was that terrible I'd have killed myself long ago."

"Not getting enough sleep?"

"Hell no."

There was something about the phrase that sounded off. X frowned. "But that's not it either?"

"No."

"Then what...?"

Zero sighed. "X, do you have any idea what it's like to be close to a woman, so close you can feel her heart beating, to be connected on an intimate level nothing else can match... and see no emotion in her eyes at all?"

X raised an eyebrow. "If that's the reaction you're getting then I would have to say you're not doing it right."

Zero made a snorting noise that was half disgust and half amusement. "That's not what I mean. Of course they enjoy it, but shouldn't there be more to it? Shouldn't it be more than just fun?"

X frowned. He thought he could see what Zero was getting at. "You mean love?"

Zero visibly flinched at the word. "Yeah, something like that."

X frowned as he finally picked up a freedom fry and poked it into a puddle of ketchup, munching on it meditatively. "Well, I dunno about in general, but my personal experience holds that this isn't necessarily the case."

Zero turned to him with surprise written all over his features. "But you and Alia-"

X cut him off. "Have I ever said Alia and I were in love?"

"Well, no, but..."

"But?"

Zero grimaced a little and shrugged. "Hell, it's you X. Shacking up with a hot chick for the hell of it just isn't your style."

X burst out laughing. It actually took him a second to regain his composure, grinning and shaking his head as he popped another potato wedge into his mouth. "True, true. But it's different with Alia. You remember when she was first assigned to me, right?"

Zero pursed his lips. "I believe your exact words were, 'If Signas thinks I can't do this job without some ditz telling me to look out for spike traps, then he must think someone else kicked Sigma's ass off Final Weapon.'" He paused. "You do remember I helped you with that, right?"

"Yes, for which I'm very grateful. The point is, though, that while I don't need Alia's help on the field as much as she'd like to think, she's also keeps an eye out for me the rest of the time, and that, I can assure you, is invaluable."

Zero blinked, so X elaborated. "It's the little things. You know how I used to be before Repliforce Zero, I was a wreck. Whining about pacifism, never getting enough sleep, popping off at Geoffrey every two days..."

The crimson wonder chuckled. "That was kind of funny, actually."

"True, but forget that for a second. Alia was just THERE for me. When I needed that extra cup of coffee come morning, she had a big steaming one. When I was stressed and someone needed to tell me to chill out, she did it. When I had some kind of ridiculous military function to attend, she made sure my suit got pressed. When I wrenched my back in a training simulation, she force fed me painkillers."

"And the sex? I KNOW there's sex X, and you two aren't exactly standoffish in public either."

X shrugged. "Sure there's a physical side to it, there has to be. Everyone needs a hug now and then. It just so happens in our case that the hug escalated one night and we discovered a very potent way to relieve stress. But we never talk about it like a relationship. We never use the L word. It just is what it is, and I'm not complaining." He left out the question he'd asked Alia after Argo's death, about possibly hurting her. The possibility was remote enough to be laughable, but it was definitely a relationship sort of question. Alia hadn't batted an eye at it, and he wasn't sure exactly what that meant.

"So basically you're saying I should stop bullshitting and be happy with what I've got," groused Zero.

"Far from it. I'm saying everyone is different. If casual sex is getting to you, then stop. If you want to start a real relationship with someone, then go for it."

All of a sudden Zero seemed to fold into himself without physically doing anything. It was rather unnerving to watch, the usually calm and confident hunter suddenly assuming a mental fetal position. "It's not that simple," he muttered.

X frowned a little. "Why not?"

Zero let out a long sigh. "Last night, when we were... in the throes of passion... I looked at the one I was currently working with... Jesus, I can't even remember which one it was... and..." He made a soft choking noise before he got it out. "I called her Iris."

Shit. X let his hamburger drop back onto his plate, suddenly losing his appetite. This would be bad territory with anyone, but in Zero's case it had the potential to be even worse, given his views towards violence, which could be just as convoluted as X's if it came down to it.

Zero and Iris had had a funny relationship. They'd never used the L word either, but it had been easily identifiable as dating, even if it wasn't exactly "serious." It might have been a by-product of Zero's friendship with Colonel, but that wasn't exactly right. Zero didn't open up to anyone, except X and Dr. Cain, and even they had to drag some things out of him with meathooks. That Zero had apparently trusted Iris enough to make a stab at a relationship with her was a big thing, but it had also led to problems. X was one of the few people who knew about the problems they'd had, of Zero's issues with trust, and his fiercely protective nature. The dating relationship had been on and off again and again, and had strained Zero's camaraderie with Colonel. Towards the end they'd patched things up a little, and it seemed like Zero was finally starting to open up more.

And then, in fits of violence at the spaceport and on Final Weapon, he'd killed them both.

X didn't know about the details, but he had gleaned from the few conversations they'd had about it that Zero's feelings had been a rather chaotic mix during those fights. Zero didn't think about battle, he did it by instinct, and that was part of what made him so dangerous. Thinking about the battles with Colonel and Iris had brought him close to defeat, especially against the perfect war machine that Colonel had been, and the monstrous fusion of the two powers that Iris had somehow become. In the end, destroying them was a matter of survival, but X knew that a part of Zero relished combat, any combat, and that was a hell of a thing to pile on top of the two deaths. And to top it all off, the one person he should have been able to unload on, the one person he'd finally been ready to open up to in a way that he'd never done before, was the very woman he'd inadvertently slain.

"I don't know what to tell you," X said after a moment. "That... that's bad. It's always been bad. But you... I don't mean this the wrong way, but you can't..."

"I can't dwell on the past," said Zero, frowning. "I know, but I can't help but feel like Iris was my last chance. My only chance. And now... Jesus X, it's like there's just a big hole through where she used to be, and I don't know what to put in there."

"If there was an easy answer, I'd give it to you," said X. "Honest I would Zero, but... well, there just isn't."

"Don't I know it," Zero grumped, sounding a bit more like his usual self. X patted him on the back.

"On the other hand, if having gratuitous amounts of sex with random partners is making you this depressed, I may just suggest you give it up. And maybe share the wealth a little."

Zero raised an eyebrow. "Done the first, actually, and fortunately with no hard feelings on the part of the girls, but you certainly don't need my clout to bag a few ladies of your own. Anyway, you don't think Alia would object to no longer being your main source of comfort?"

"Hell, she might even be into it. I wouldn't be surprised by ANYTHING that woman is in to..."

-

"That movie was terrible."

Cassy sighed and rolled her eyes. She and Vile were just leaving the movie theatre after viewing Star Wars Episode Sixteen: The Attack of Jedi Clone's Revenge. Since Vile just walking around casually would have resulted in mass panic, he had attempted to dress down, and to most observers they appeared to be merely a young couple out on the town, her in a casual blouse and skirt, him in jeans and a button down shirt. The only thing that could be considered vaguely odd about the two was Vile's face which, while a perfect cover for someone who wore a helmet all the time, was also part of the reason why Vile wore a helmet all the time. He was not by any means an unattractive man, but his optics were solid red and his unruly black hair hung almost to his shoulders and had a tendency to drift in front of his face. This last bit was actually a bit of a blessing, as it covered up the fact that his right eye was marred by a bone white scar that ran from his chin up into his hairline.

The wound was a souvenir of his long ago battle with X and Zero, when the exploding shrapnel of his dying ride armor had somehow gotten into his helmet and half blinded him. He still maintained that was how X had managed to kill him. When Doppler had attempted to resurrect him without it, he'd promptly cut himself a new one, a reminder that he still had foes to kill. He'd been quite insane at the time, thanks to Doppler's dose of the Maverick virus. When he'd been resurrected a second time the scar had been left where it was, but his right optic had also been repaired, though it no longer glowed with powerful emotions as his left continued to do. Vile really had no problem with this state of affairs, as he could enjoy the benefits of the scar's shock value while retaining sight in both eyes. He was about ready to stab himself in said eyes, however, after that movie.

"Oh come on," said Cassy, grabbing his arm and cuddling against him petulantly. "It wasn't THAT bad."

"Boba Fett's clone was killed when Han Solo's headless clone accidentally performed a drop kick that threw him into the fifth Death Star's power core."

Cassy frowned as they stopped for traffic. "Okay, I guess it was that bad. I managed to distract you from the battle between the Emperor clone army and the Luke Skywalker clone army by sticking my tongue down your throat though, right?"

Vile chuckled and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "That you did, my dear, that you did." He gently pulled her hair away and pressed his lips against the back of her neck. She shivered in response, clutching his hand. She loved it when he did that. Vile didn't care if they were in public or the seclusion of the apartment they'd cohabited since Argo's death three weeks ago, when he felt like showing affection for her he showed it, onlookers be damned. Cassy was unused to this, and couldn't decide whether it was embarrassing or thrilling. The blush on her face and the tremble in her knees suggested both.

"Th- the light's red... we can go."

"Hmmm, so we can." He nipped at her neck and straightened up, putting an arm around her and leading her hot and bothered self through the crosswalk. A glance out of the corner of her eye confirmed that he was grinning like a hyena. He liked making her feel embarrassed, and that always gave her a gnawing feeling at the edge of her stomach. She knew him well enough by now to know that he teased her just as much because he knew it made her uncomfortable as because they both knew she actually liked it. That small trace of sadism always scared her when it showed, and reminded her just how dangerous this man was. She'd seen the news; she knew what he was capable of. For some reason, however, he'd decided to spare her all but the faintest traces of his dark side, choosing instead to indulge in much more pleasant instincts around her. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why, but she felt too privileged to heed the good sense that told her to run before he hurt her worse than Argo had.

Of course, she wasn't unprepared for the possibility either. He'd actually shown her a thing or two about self defense, and she'd come a long way from being a frightened, helpless woman who cowered when her husband beat her. The beam dagger strapped to her thigh wasn't just for moral support, either. Now if only she could learn a trick with it that he hadn't taught her she might stand a chance of surviving if he went apeshit...

"Hey, Cassy! Is that you?"

Both reploids stiffened, then slowly turned around. Cassy had met a number of Argo's fellow soldiers in the 17th Maverick Hunter unit, and two of them were approaching right now. Geoffrey had actually cleaned up for once, and sported a clean shirt and a pair of slacks, though he had apparently insisted on his trench coat, despite the warm weather. His companion was another of X's sergeants, a willowy reploid woman named Delphyne who was currently wearing jeans and a long-sleeved blouse, deep green hair free and whipping in the breeze.

Vile tensed, his arm suddenly very heavy around Cassy's shoulders. He recognized Geoffrey from his abortive kidnapping scheme a few months ago, and it wasn't hard to guess where the woman with him knew Cassy from. His mind worked rapidly, trying to pin down a plan of action. His strongest instinct was to summon his armor and blow the little shits to hell and back, but then his cover would be blown, and... He blinked. He realized he didn't want to risk Cassy getting hurt. It was unlikely that she would be, of course, but the mere possibility made him pause. Worrying about someone else was an odd sentiment for him, and he wasn't sure if it made him feel strangely good about himself or just pissed him off.

Fortunately, Vile's moral dilemma gave Cassy time to whisper "Just stay calm!" in his ear and slip out of his embrace to greet Delphyne with the customary squeal and hug combo that women use to pretend they're ecstatic to see people whose names they barely remember. Geoffrey and Vile just sort of stood back, trading looks that said, "Eesh, women."

"I'm so glad you're okay," Delphyne started, suddenly standing back from the embrace. "When X told the rest of us about Argo, I was so worried about you! I'm so glad it worked out."

Cassy blanched. "Wha- what exactly did X tell you?" she asked, suddenly feeling very exposed. Geoffrey came forward and gave her a pat on the shoulder and a comforting smile. "Just that old Argo wasn't quite the man we thought he was. Didn't come as much of a surprise to me, frankly. The way that guy got in the middle of a fight its no wonder he had trouble controlling himself."

"Well, I was surprised as all hell," said Delphyne, giving Cassy another brief hug. "I'm just glad you seem to be alright. You are alright, aren't you?"

Cassy smiled. The concern was awkward but so heartfelt she couldn't help feeling touched. "I'm just fine," she said, "I... I met someone who helped me out a lot, as a matter of fact."

"Is that your friend here?" asked Geoffrey, turning to Vile. The Maverick tensed, but Geoffrey didn't seem to notice anything unusual about him, simply extending his hand for a greeting.

"Yes," Cassy said quickly, "this is Vi- uh, Virgil. Virgil, meet Geoffrey and Delphyne. Geoffrey and Delphyne, Virgil."

"Charmed," said the newly christened Virgil, managing to keep a straight face. Delphyne shook his hand as well, and then turned back to Cassy.

"What are you two up to?"

"Oh, just the usual, dinner and a movie," Cassy's smile was starting to grow forced. She could practically feel the irritation Vile was exuding, and she knew she had to get him away from the two hunters before he dismembered them. Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other ideas.

"Us too!" said Geoffrey, pulling Delphyne into a one-armed hug. "Romantic evening out and all that, followed shortly by a glass of wine in front of the fireplace and a good long sha-OW!"

Geoffrey started hopping up and down, holding the foot that Delphyne had dug her heel into. She returned Cassy and Vile's confused stares with a too-sweet smile.

"We're not on a date," she said, "Geoffrey never has anything to do on Fridays and I was taking pity on him. So! What movie are you going to see?"

"Uh, actually we already saw one, the new Star Wars," Cassy said, fighting the urge to turn around and make sure Vile wasn't pulling out a weapon of some sort.

"Really?" said Geoffrey, suddenly unflappable again, "what a coincidence, us too! I'm just sorry it was a piece of crap. Boba Fett should have owned Han and Chewbacca, no matter how many headless clones they had."

Vile, who had just then been imagining ways to torment the two hunters with hot pokers, suddenly felt the violent urges die with a small, pathetic whimper. Could it be? Had he found a kindred spirit at last?

"Well, hey," said Delphyne, "since I assume we're both going to dinner now, why not split the bill? Geoffrey and I were headed for the Titanium Wok, unless you two want to go someplace else..."

"Actually, that's just where we were heading," said Vile in a voice that was positively pleasant. Warning bells went off in Cassy's head. "We'd be delighted to join you," he finished, ignoring the nervous twitch his date had suddenly developed.

"Capital!" Said Geoffrey, "lead on, my date and I have a few things to-OW! For the love of pudding that was the same foot...!"

Cassy and Vile turned and headed for their favorite restaurant, the two Maverick Hunters in tow. Fortunately, Geoffrey and Delphyne were arguing loudly enough that they could talk without too much risk of being overheard.

"DON'T tell me you're going to gut them in a restaurant!" Cassy whispered fiercely to her lover. Vile responded by laughing and patting her on the head. "Nothing half so crude my dear. Just relax. You wanted to have a nice, normal evening, and we're having one. Maverick Hunters notwithstanding."

Cassy wasn't totally reassured, but she didn't protest further. After a moment Vile leaned back against her, left eye suddenly glowing with barely restrained menace.

"VIRGIL!?"

She restrained a giggle. "It was the best I could come up with," she replied lamely. Vile heaved a sigh.

This was going to be an interesting dinner.

-

The greatest reploid mind in existence had been, without a doubt, the genius Dr. Doppler. With a dual megacomputer to enhance his brain's already unusually powerful intellect, the doctor had possessed a mind the likes of which no reploid designer had ever been able to duplicate. Some claimed that up and comer Gate would one day match Doppler's achievements, but thus far the crown remained firmly on Doppler's wrinkled brow.

Of course, that didn't mean other reploids couldn't come pretty freakin' close.

Doppler had been the pinnacle of the Cray series, reploids designed primarily to think. Gig was a less successful but later model, sporting gunmetal gray armor and neon green eyes that flashed with complicated code patterns as his positronic brain went about its work. Of course he also sported the trademark computer cylinders on his shoulders, as well as the wild white hair and labcoat, though in a desperate flailing for individuality his coat sported metallic green trim.

Commissioned by the Maverick Hunters shortly after Doppler had proven the design to be so successful, Gig was, for all intents and purposes, the face of the hunter's computer system. Linked with every computer on the base and the vast cyber network beyond, Gig could access information from literally almost anywhere in the blink of an eye. What information that wasn't readily available to him could be easily hacked into with his mad skills, but he rarely attempted such a feat. In any case, his current assignment didn't require anything nearly so clandestine. Hunter personnel files were hardly classified, even if looking into them was generally frowned upon. For this particular hunter lieutenant, though, he was willing to do just about anything.

"I'm NOT going to flash you," said Lana. She was in civilian garb, a white t-shirt and khakis, but there was no mistaking Zero's second-in-command. Her reputation didn't just come from her boss, either.

Gig sighed as he led the way towards the computer lab. "I was JOKING. Get over yourself. Besides," he added as he opened the door to an empty side room and ushered her inside. "It's not like what you want me to do is particularly hard."

"I know," she replied, flicking on the light as she walked in. "But I still appreciate you being discreet about this."

"I'm amazed you're so concerned," said Gig, closing the door. "Is there a spy in our midst?" It was the only reason he could think of someone being so worried about accessing such an innocuous file.

"No," she shook her head quickly, ivory white locks flicking about her shoulders. "Nothing like that, but it's... well, it's kind of hard to explain. Just show me the file and maybe it'll make more sense. I want a look at Geoffrey from the 17th Unit."

Gig nodded, his eyes abruptly flashing solid green. Before him appeared a translucent hologram of the elite hunter in all his scruffy glory, smiling roguishly. "Anything in particular you want to know about him?"

"Hmmm... background's always a good place to start. Then combat capabilities, special attacks, anything."

The hologram compressed, fitting into the top right corner of an imaginary sheet of paper, while floating words appeared beneath him. "Lesse," said Gig, "manufactured in Megacity 4, old London, during the second Maverick war. Originally a 'Bard' class, designed for entertainment."

Lana raised an eyebrow. "Entertainment?"

"Actor, singer, etcetera. Pre-programmed with the most notable plays, books, poems, and songs of known history. Dude could recite all of Shakespeare's stuff and every translation of the Canterbury Tales from memory. Worked in the theatre district for a while before he had a disagreement with his boss, apparently something to do with the guy's wife. Moved to Megacity 1 after that and... disappeared." He blinked. "Hm, that's odd. There's literally no record of him until he joined up six months before the Doppler uprising."

"Any chance of Maverick activity during that period?" Lana asked, hating herself but wanting to cover all the bases.

"Considered, but he was virus free and had no criminal record. He was added to the 17th Unit for his high combat rankings in the simulators, proved himself and made a Sergeant when the 17th and 0 units infiltrated Doppler Town, which I'm sure you're aware of."

"Yeah. Cocky sonofagun saved my ass from a giant centipede."

"I hadn't heard about that one. Oh well, that's all we have on his past. You wanted to know about his weaponry?"

"Yup."

The hologram of Geoffrey returned to life size, only now it moved, showing the hunter draw his broadsword-shaped beam saber and wield it with casual ease, flicking about the huge red blade as though it weighed nothing, which in fact it did, being made of energy. Nonetheless, Lana knew that few hunters on the force could match Geoffrey's finesse with a blade.

"Well, the beam saber's pretty obvious, and he's damn good with the thing too, trains with S class drones and, I hear, is two to four against Zero. Aside from that..." The hologram shifted, the image putting away its sword and drawing a long, sleek blaster pistol which fired beams of brilliant blue plasma. "A variation of the EE-3 plasma rifle, modified for one handed use. Doesn't pack near as much punch as a standard issue arm cannon, but it does have a higher rate of fire, and he's an A-ranked marksman."

Lana nodded. She knew all this. The 17th and 0 units worked together fairly regularly, and she'd seen Geoffrey in action. It wasn't that he was especially exceptional, all of X's soldiers were capable warriors, but what she'd always noticed about Geoffrey was the remarkably half-assed way he did everything. Even the usually jovial Zero became grim in the midst of combat, but Geoffrey cut down legions of foes with a smile on his face and a song on his lips. Still, that wasn't what she'd been hoping to get an insight into.

"No innate weapons? No special attacks or anything?"

Gig frowned, mentally running a few internal checks to make sure there wasn't anything else on record to contradict the information in the file. It wasn't impossible- the file he'd pulled up was actually a slightly edited and outdated version of another file composed by the officers who'd recruited Geoffrey and those that had trained or commanded him. Every hunter had such a file, and they also had the stripped down version that was available for general perusal, only without personal comments from officers or anything that might compromise security. After a moment's hesitation, he went ahead and scanned the classified file as well- his security clearance was second only to the upper echelons of the Maverick Hunter command structure, and the information Lana was looking for wouldn't be a significant compromise of her clearance... if it was there...

"Nothing," he reported. "Like I said, he was designed to be an actor, so no need for innate attacks. No record of having anything installed either. I suppose he could have and just not told anyone about it..."

"...but why keep something like that from your fellow squadmates?" Lana finished, frowning hugely. Especially when you had something as powerful up your sleeve as that "Wyvern Strike" had been. Something about this bothered her. It wasn't that she suspected Geoffrey of anything untoward, he'd proved his loyalty on more than one occasion. Nonetheless, instinct was screaming at her that this was unusual enough to merit some investigation, and Lana listened to her instincts.

"Is that what this is about?" Gig asked, "Geoffrey pulled a special attack out of his ass and you're worried there might be more to him than meets the eye?"

Lana nodded. "Basically. I don't know why I'm worried, exactly. He's definitely on our side. Still... an enigma wrapped in a mystery..."

Gig shut off the hologram. "Well, I dunno what I could tell ya. I'll run some more checks on him, but if you ask me it's probably nothing to worry about. Geoffrey always had a flair for the dramatic, he probably just likes to keep his best stuff secret."

"Yeah, probably. Thanks Gig, you were a big help."

"Don't mention it," the walking computer replied as he turned to leave. "Anything for my favorite huntress. Let me know if you need anything else."

"You got it. Oh, and Gig?"

He turned with a question on his lips, a question that died very quickly as Lana lifted up her t-shirt and gave him a look at what she'd been most graciously endowed with. Gig stood there even after she quickly replaced her clothing, his eyes wide and jaw working, though no sound came out. Lana favored him with a manic grin and patted him on the arm as she walked past him and out the door. Gig slowly turned to watch her go, finally pulling himself out of his stupor and shaking his head, grinning.

"Damn. For a woman, she's got balls."

-

"So Virgil," Delphyne asked, setting down her chopsticks. "We know Cassy writes a column for the Daily Reploid, what do you do for a living?"

Cassy almost choked on her sushi, but Vile remained remarkably nonchalant. "Weapons research," he replied, leaning back and slipping an arm around Cassy, gently patting her on the back. The piece of fish finally went down the right way and she made a grab for her water.

"That's interesting," said Geoffrey, "what company?"

"A private contractor," Vile said, smiling a little. "I have a contact who designs the toys, I just test them."

"Hmmm, sounds like my old job," said Delphyne, subtly stealing Geoffrey's fortune cookie. "Paid better than being a hunter, but wasn't quite as satisfying."

Vile's face twitched just a bit, his smile melting into a straighter line. "No, I don't suppose it would be..."

"I don't suppose," said Geoffrey thoughtfully, "that your contact is purple?"

Everyone stared at him for a moment. He shrugged. "Just an idle question. A few months back me and the boss ran into a Maverick who said he'd been rebuilt by a purple guy. I've been thinking a private engineer, working alone, would be the perfect suspect."

Vile's mouth twitched. "Really? That's not a bad theory... who was this Maverick you ran into, by the way?"

"You've probably heard of him," said Geoffrey, "sonofabitch goes by the name Vile."

"Vile..." Vile nodded, slowly. "Yeah, I've heard of him." Cassy was positive her heart was going to explode, it was pumping so fast.

"I heard he was actually a hunter once," mused Delphyne. "That was before our time, though. Supposedly he was one of the best on the force before he went Maverick."

"He was brutal," said Geoffrey, "just a few weeks ago he..." He trailed off, then his eyes widened. "Oh, he was the one who killed Argo- oh God Cassy, I'm sorry."

Cassy shook her head. "It's okay. He actually did me a favor. If he hadn't attacked Argo when he did, he would've..." she made a choking noise, then set her jaw. "Argo would have killed me, otherwise. I'm glad Vile was there, no matter what he's done in the past." She took his hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze, which he returned.

"Hmm, imagine being grateful to Vile," said Delphyne, idly stirring the ice remaining in her glass with her straw. "I guess it's not too far-fetched. You are a fellow reploid, after all."

Geoffrey shrugged. "Eh, I just think the old boy's gone soft. He kidnapped a little girl a few months ago and didn't hurt a hair on her head. Probably doesn't have the stones for it anymore."

Vile gripped his chopsticks so hard they snapped in half. Fortunately, the noise just happened to coincide with a horrendous explosion that trembled the windows of the restaurant. Everyone in the dining room whirled around to see a car fly past the windows, trailing fire, and hit another one in the road, resulting in a massive fireball.

"GET DOWN," Geoffrey bellowed, diving to the floor with Delphyne and Vile, who pushed Cassy underneath himself. Seconds later the windows shuddered and exploded inwards, scattering razor shards of glass throughout the dining room. A second later Geoffrey was back on his feet, sweeping the glass off his coat, which he'd used to protect himself and Delphyne.

The huntress leapt to her feet and a flash of green light swirled around her body, replacing her casual clothes with her sparking emerald and gold armor. Geoffrey simply reached into his coat and drew his huge beam saber. "Everyone stay calm!" he yelled, "stay here, you should be safe! The wounded should wait for the paramedics to arrive, we'll take care of whatever that was!"

A second later he was out the window and running in the direction the car had flown from, Delphyne immediately behind him. Vile rolled off of Cassy, who despite feeling a little squashed was unhurt. Vile, though...

"Oh my god," Cassy drew in a sharp breath as she saw the glass shard poking out the back of Vile's shoulder. He surveyed the damage with a grimace.

"Ehhh, it's just a flesh wound. Yank it out for me, will ya?"

"Wh-what!?"

"Nobody ruins my date without paying the piper, I'm gonna go kick some ass. Hurry and get this out, then wait for the fireworks to die down and get your cute little ass home. I'll meet you there."

Cassy could tell from the look he gave her that arguing would be useless. She gingerly grabbed the glass piece, grimaced, and yanked it out. It wasn't imbedded very deep, and came out relatively easily. Vile just grunted, pulled her in for a quick kiss, and jumped out the window.

"Fucking wierdass date," she muttered. "And it's still better than anything I ever did with Argo."

-

"Quick, beam in your armor," Delphyne said as she and Geoffrey pushed their way through the fleeing crowd.

"Can't," replied the British hunter, "it doesn't have warp capacity."

"You- it doesn't what!? Are you retarded!?"

"Oh, probably. Well lookie what he have here..."

The source of the disturbance turned out to be a tall, lanky humanoid reploid decked out in black armor with sparkling blue and gold highlights. His blonde hair was wildly spiked up above his head and his gauntlets each housed a pair of menacing blades shaped like the prongs of an electrical plug, which predictably crackled with electricity. He had run out of cars to blow up and now seemed content to simply tear up the street with blasts of golden lightning.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" roared Geoffrey in a voice that could only be described as commanding. "I am Sergeant Geoffrey of the 17th Elite Maverick Hunter Unit! Stand down immediately or be declared Maverick and retired! This is your ONLY warning, asshole!"

The reploid simply cackled and held out his hands, the blades jutting out over them crackling with energy. "You can call me Cardiac!" he shouted back, "and you're barbecue!"

He launched an attack of twin lightning blasts, aiming one eat each hunter. Geoffrey and Delphyne simply leapt aside, having seen the attacks coming from a mile away. Cardiac wasn't done, however, and continued to pour more energy into the blasts, chasing the other reploids with lightning.

Delphyne made a "harumph" noise. While most female reploids tended towards lighter armor and more agility in their fighting style, she personally favored heavy armor, which allowed her to support the wing-like thrusters that jutted out of her shoulder plates. With a mental command the rockets opened and fired, carrying her up and over the lightning arc. Before Cardiac could react, she'd transformed her right arm into a fearsome buster cannon and proceeded to rain down rapid fire blasts of highly explosive plasma at her opponent. Cardiac scowled, but disappeared with a flash of light and a crackle of electricity, avoiding the huntress's attack completely.

Geoffrey twirled his beam saber in his hand, igniting it and whirling around in a deadly arc. Just as he'd guessed, Cardiac warped in behind him, arm blades ready for a surprise attack. The Maverick yelped when he realized his ambush had been turned against him and raised his arms, blocking Geoffrey's blow with his arm blades. He wasn't hurt, and the energy surrounding the litanium blades prevented them from being melted by the heat of Geoffrey's blade, but the force of the blow sent Cardiac skidding backwards, off balance. A second later Delphyne came roaring up behind Geoffrey, arm cannon raised and charging.

"TITAN BREAKER!"

The huntress' signature attack was a great stream of plasma shaped like a curling dragon. It actually shot out to the side and encircled Cardiac before rearing up and diving at him with a fierce scream. Cardiac frowned magnificently. Instead of warping away, he retracted his arm blades, while his large shoulder pads opened up to reveal recessed energy cannons. With a high-pitched whine of collecting energy, they unleashed twin waves of electrical power that encircled him in a spherical shield, and then blasted outwards in a lethal 360 degree wave. Plasma dragon met electric wall, and the two attacks cancelled each other out with a draconian scream and a flash of light. When it cleared, Cardiac was nowhere to be seen.

Geoffrey and Delphyne whirled, ready to counter their opponent's attack from behind. Unfortunately, Cardiac got smart and re-warped back to his original place, arm blades re-emerging before he stabbed them into the street.

"THUNDER RUIN!"

It was usually a much more straightforward attack, but Cardiac was versatile. The street exploded as the electrical wires beneath it overloaded, hurling themselves into the air. One flapped over Geoffrey's shoulder and the business end struck him full in the chest. Another coiled around Delphyne's ankle. The hunters let out twin screams of agony as the awesome current slammed into them with a sensation like being beaten with hammers. The attack only lasted a few seconds, but that was enough. Geoffrey tipped over forward and fell limply to the ground, while Delphyne had a bit further to drop before she slammed into the ruined asphalt.

Cardiac giggled. "Well, that was easier than I thought."

Then a blast of blue lightning struck him in the back and hurled him into the side of a building.

"Truer words were ne'er spoken, asshat."

Vile strode down the street in all his dark glory, shoulder cannon still smoking from its trial run. Cardiac stared at the legendary Maverick with surprise. "Wh-what was that for!?"

"Don't ask me to explain it. It won't make any sense to you anyway. Suffice to say I'm mad at you. This always results in death." Vile strode up to where Cardiac lay stunned on the sidewalk, helplessly struggling against his bonds. Vile laughed and put a hand on his missile launcher.

"I'm actually impressed that you managed to take down two top-ranked hunters on your own, but you nonetheless have the misfortune to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Don't be too scared, I'll make it quick."

Cardiac's desperate grimace abruptly turned into a smile and the blue-white energy that arced over his body suddenly took on a golden hue. "How nice for you. I won't."

"What the fu-ARGH!" Vile flew backwards as Cardiac unleashed a blast of electricity right in his face. The Maverick hit the side of the building on the other side of the street and slumped to the ground, dazed. Cardiac warped across the street and raised his arm, preparing to impale Vile on his arm blades.

"I actually came out of hiding to find you, if you must know. I thought we'd make a good team. But I'll be just as satisfied with the reputation of taking your head!"

"TITAN BREAKER!"

"Oh SHIT." Cardiac managed, with feeling, before the snaking plasma blast struck him heavily in the side and hurled him away.

"Ooh, beaten up by a girl, that has to be embarrassing," Vile cackled as he hauled himself to his feet. He didn't get very far before he felt the happy end of Delphyne's arm cannon jab him in the side of the head.

"I don't know what kind of spat you two are having, but I'm not gonna give up the opportunity to put YOU down," she growled. Vile jerked to the side and clamped his hand over the end of her weapon just as she fired.

WHOOMP!

"OW!"

"Jack shit!"

The two reploids staggered away from each other, snarling in pain. Vile growled as he looked at his smoking and sparking arm. His hand hadn't been badly damaged, though the blast had scorched off most of the protective glove. His force shield unit was definitely out now, though. The doc was gonna have kittens about that.

Delphyne, for her part, had a ruined buster. She managed to revert it back to her normal arm with a pained cry. Her other arm wasn't equipped to transform, so she was out of long-range attacks now. She wasn't exactly helpless though; energy emitters popped out of the tops of her gauntlets and hummed to life, equipping her with two sets of neon green energy claws.

"Ugh... is this... a private party... or can anyone play...?" Delphyne whirled to see Geoffrey pulling himself painfully to his feet. She was visibly taken aback. "Geoffrey!? How did you take that attack without any armor? I'm surprised your generator didn't rupture!"

He just grinned roguishly at her and re-ignited his beam saber. "Can't put a good man down, luv. I'd be jiggered if I missed a fight this entertaining."

Meanwhile, Cardiac was also pulling himself to his feet. The titan breaker had hurt him, and badly; his entire left side was stripped bare of armor and skin, and red circulatory fluid poured out of the wound, obscuring his metallic insides. It wasn't lethal, but he knew he couldn't fight off two Maverick Hunters and Vile with such an injury. Smiling mirthlessly, he triggered his warping ability.

...or not. He swore loudly as he realized Delphyne's blast had shorted out his teleporter. With a snarl, he collected a ball of crackling lightning between his palms and hurled it at the huntress.

"You die first, bitch!"

Unfortunately, the insult warned both hunters what was coming and they nimbly sidestepped the attack, rushing towards the Mavericks with a vengeance. "You deal with the walking plug!" shouted Delphyne, "I'll take care of old purple face!"

"I can deal with that," growled Vile. He fired his flamethrower, filling the street with napalm. Two halves of an armored visor slid out of the side of Delphyne's helmet and locked together, protecting her face as she ignited her rockets and blasted heedlessly through the fire. She was on Vile in another second, slashing at him with the beam blades on her gauntlets. Vile simply dodged backwards with a hop, skip, and a jump, staying tantalizingly just out of her reach. Delphyne gave her thrusters an extra burst and spun in mid-air, slashing at Vile a dozen times in a few seconds. He held up his left hand and easily blocked the attacks, one at a time, then kicked her square in the chin, hurling her up and back, before planting a missile in the middle of her breastplate. Her armor was too thick to let the round penetrate, but it did take heavy damage, and the force of the point blank explosion sent her flying back and into the street again, heavily sedated.

"That takes care of that," he muttered, turning to see what was happening with his other playmates. Cardiac was keeping Geoffrey at bay with short blasts of lightning, but he had yet to hit the nimble hunter, and with every blast Geoffrey came closer, his beam saber getting uncomfortably nearer the Maverick's throat with each slash. Cardiac was growing desperate, as evidenced by the wild look in his eyes. Finally, with a frustrated scream, he charged. Geoffrey took advantage of the wild rush to stab his opponent in the shoulder, but his blade hit more armor than flesh, and Cardiac grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the ground, left arm raised and ready to impale the hunter on his arm blades.

"Time to be defenestrated!!!" the Maverick snarled, and brought down his weapons. Except he didn't, because a huge hand grabbed his arm and easily held it there. Cardiac turned to see what was going on, and was thoroughly shocked to find himself confronting an entirely new face.

Vile skidded to a halt, surprised. The newcomer had appeared out of nowhere, apparently without even teleporting. The reploid was tall and dressed in black armor trimmed with gold, an indigo cloak flowing out behind him. Purple eyes blazed behind a black mask on a helmet with twin, fin-like crests. He showed no sign of strain as he lifted Cardiac off of his opponent and held him aloft with one hand.

"Cardiac," it spoke with a voice like the wrath of God. "You have been chosen."

"Oh yeah!? Well choose THIS!!!" Cardiac jabbed his free hand at the reploid's stomach, striking him with the full force of his electrical fury. To Cardiac's complete and utter shock the reploid simply stood there, letting the energy wash over him. His armor was somewhat scorched at the point of impact, and his cloak caught fire, but the huge reploid showed no sign that he felt it. Eventually Cardiac ran out of juice and hung there, panting.

"Are you done?" Without waiting for an answer, the dark reploid's eyes fired twin beams of destructive purple energy, punching into Cardiac's chest and blasting through his torso, not giving his generator time to explode before it was totally blown apart. Dead before he realized what had happened to him, Cardiac hung limply in the reploid's grasp. His killer nonchalantly grabbed his burning cloak by the shoulder and swept it off, obscuring himself and his victim from sight. Then, when the cloak fell to the street, its owner was gone. A second later the cloak was gone too, totally consumed.

"Well I'll be dipped in shit and rolled in breadcrumbs," gaped Vile, suitably impressed. Looking around, he noted Delphyne and Geoffrey were both reclaiming their feet, staring with wonder at the spot where Cardiac had been slain.

"Hmm, a few months ago I would have gutted them both just for fun," Vile mused, "but right now I'd infinitely prefer buggering off so I can go screw my girlfriend. Hell, I MUST be going soft if I prefer sex over sweet sweet carnage. Ah well, there will be plenty of carnage in the future." With that he teleported away, just in time to avoid Delphyne's flying tackle. She received a faceful of asphalt for her trouble. "Damnit!"

Geoffrey limped over and helped her up. "Well, this was an interesting date wasn't it?" he asked, grinning. Delphyne resisted the urge to smack him in the face. "Shut up and lets get back to headquarters, I need a bath."

Geoffrey nodded. "Aye, I could go for a hot shower myself..." he trailed off, and then frowned. "Apparently so could Vile."

"Huh? What do you-" she stopped as she looked to where he was pointing. Right next to where she was standing, where Vile had been standing not two minutes ago, was a small puddle of crimson circulatory fluid.

"He was bleeding?" she asked in surprise. "I didn't see him take any damage that serious. He didn't even seem to feel it that bad when I shot him in the hand."

"That's what I was wondering," said Geoffrey, rubbing his chin meditatively. "I thought I saw something dripping from his shoulder, but he didn't get wounded there at all. Maybe he just came from another brawl?"

"That would explain why he didn't stick around to kick our asses," she muttered, then shook her head. "Enough wondering, let's get back and make our report. I need a doctor."

"Sounds good to me." They teleported, leaving the street ruined and empty.

-

Cassy sighed and settled her chin on her folded arms. She was back at the apartment, leaning over the back of the couch and watching the sunset, and waiting. She didn't know why she was so worried. Of COURSE he would come back. He was VILE, after all. Unless X or Zero showed up, he was going to come back.

Of course, there was always that off chance, but...

Abruptly a pair of powerful arms wrapped around her chest and pulled her against an armored body, something hard and warm poking her bottom from behind. She let out a soft mewl that was half surprise and half pleasure, and then his mouth closed over her neck, hot and eager.

"I didn't get to kill anything today," he said huskily, nibbling at her earlobe. "I'm going to be insatiable."

Cassy was the luckiest woman on earth.

-

Mamba was rather a contradiction in terms. While most reploids named "mamba" would actually be snake-like, he was about as humanoid as it got. He did, however, sport shiny black armor with an unusual scale pattern, which at least paid a visual homage to his namesake. That was purely for show, however, while in reality his name referred to a much more practical ability, specifically his talent for moving really, really fast. At the moment, however, he was standing fairly still, leaning against the wall of a proverbially dark back alley. Mamba was neither a hunter nor a Maverick; his allegiance lay with the local organized crime syndicate, which was why he was standing in this particular alley at this time of night. He had a contact to meet.

"Cats ate my baby."

The odd phrase came out of nowhere, but Mamba didn't blink an eye. "There's more than one way to skin a dingo," he replied, nonchalantly. Then he straightened up and turned to find himself facing a mass murderer.

He wasn't worried, of course. The reploid had used the appropriate password, which identified him as Necro, the Salieri family's head assassin. Necro was another reploid whose physical appearance belied his actual lethality. Tall and aristocratic, he wore rich purple armor with white trimmings and a long, flowing cape of the same color. He wore, of all things, a monocle over his right eye, and spoke with a heavy foreign accent. Romanian, thought Mamba, who had always believed the hired killer bore a certain resemblance to Dracula. Indeed, Necro's teeth were unusually pointed and sharp, but that, along with his claw-like hands, was purely for show.

"You've got a juicy target this time," said Mamba as he turned and walked further into the alley. Necro fell into step beside him, having no trouble keeping up with the relatively shorter reploid. "A human fat cat named Amadeus who runs the protection ring in the next neighborhood. If we take him out, his boys won't know who all the contacts are."

"Leaving our illustrious employer free to offer them a helping hand," finished Necro, smirking. He'd been in this business long enough to know how it worked. "Very well then, let us-"

He stopped talking rather abruptly, also coming to a halt in his walking. Mamba halted as well, equally surprised. The alley in front of them had just gotten darker, as though a solid wall had appeared out of nowhere. Then twin lights appeared in the shadows, and Mamba had seen enough stealth reploids walk out of a shadow to recognize them as a pair of balefully glowing optics.

"You're interrupting a private conversation," growled Necro. A stiletto appeared suddenly in his hand, and he flicked it towards the glowing eyes with expert aim. The knife disappeared directly in between them, and both reploids smiled smugly.

Except the eyes didn't go out, nor was there the telltale sound of a knife hitting flesh, synthetic or otherwise, or even bouncing off armor. There was a moment of silence, and then Mamba noticed the shadows shrinking in on themselves, forming a shape. Features became apparent and the darkness solidified into a huge, humanoid reploid clad entirely in black and gray armor, sporting bright golden trim. The wide shoulder epilates trailed a billowing dark blue cloak, and the bizarre, crested helmet covered the reploid's face like a mask, leaving only the glowing purple eyes visible.

"And just who are you supposed to be?" asked Necro, two more knives appearing in his hands as he crouched slightly, taking a battle stance.

The dark reploid didn't reply. Not verbally, anyway. Raising a massive hand, it made a sharp gesture in Mamba's direction, and much to Necro's surprise, the speedy reploid fell back with a cry of pain and a spurt of blood as a flash of malignant violet energy rent open his chestplate. Quickly turning back to his apparent enemy, Necro hurled his knives. The mysterious reploid brought up his other hand, palm out, and with another flash of violent power the daggers stopped in mid-air and clattered to the ground.

But Necro was already on the move, rushing towards the tall reploid with a snarl, twin sonic blades sprouting out of his gauntlets. His knives had been merely metal, if sharp, but his forearm blades could cut through adaman. He could reach his opponent's throat with a jump, but he much preferred the thought of going for his gut. It would be fun to hear the silent figure scream as he yanked out his entrails...

The tall reploid simply held out his other hand in addition to the first, palm outwards, and the ground immediately in front of him erupted, the purple light blasting forward through the concrete in a line right at Necro. The assassin merely smiled and leapt upwards, easily clearing the ground-based attack and-

The reploid allowed his left hand to fall to his side as he clenched his right into a fist and jerked it upwards, as though delivering an uppercut. Necro realized his mistake an instant too late as the energy beneath him erupted upwards and trapped him in a pillar of burning power. The assassin screamed as it invaded his body, his armor cracking and breaking in seconds, his cape burnt to ash, his flesh searing, blood spewing out of his mouth and eyes as he shrieked, long and loud. After what seemed like an eternity the attack ended and Necro fell bonelessly to the ground.

Then Mamba attacked. Moving almost as fast as sound he rushed at the big reploid with a war cry, a curved green beam saber whirling in his hand. His enemy spread his arms as if to counterattack, but he was much too slow, and Mamba capitalized on it, swinging his blade with deadly accuracy at the larger reploid's chest, aiming right for the triangular blue gem in the middle of it. Energy met metal with a loud crack, and to Mamba's absolute horror, the blade actually overloaded and shorted out instead of penetrating the armor, sparks spewing from the handle. In the same motion he turned to run, but the attack had thrown off his timing. The other reploid's huge hand grabbed him by the back of the helmet, lifting him easily off the ground.

Then he heard the voice, a voice like Satan calling up from the caverns of hellfire.

"I had only intended to take the assassin, but you are surprisingly skilled for a simple grunt. You may yet be of use to me."

That was the last thing Mamba heard before the reploid crushed his skull.

Cape billowing behind him, the dark figure strode to Necro's inert body and picked it up by the arm, dragging it behind him much like Mamba's headless corpse as he turned and walked back into the shadows, which spread and enveloped him, leaving nothing behind.

Nothing but the two dark figures watching from atop the building high above, the cloaked organ master and his chain-wrapped companion.

"The first?" asked the blue-armored reploid, glancing at the other. The cloaked reploid shook his head slowly.

"No. Certainly not the first. We would have sensed that." His eyes lit up, sparkling neon green beneath the shadows of his hood as he watched Mamba's blood pool out from his ruined head.

"It would seem we have a new player in the game..."